


Lucid Dreaming

by BatShitCrazy



Series: The Soul Bond Series [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Superman - All Media Types, superbat - Fandom
Genre: Bottom Bruce, Breathplay, Bruises, Choking, Dubious Consent, Lucid Dreaming, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, My First Fanfic, SuperBat, Top Clark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-03-20
Packaged: 2018-10-08 06:57:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10381107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BatShitCrazy/pseuds/BatShitCrazy
Summary: A tired Bat just wants to sleep but is disturbed by the sexy.This is my first ever fanfic. It was very spur of the moment. I have no beta so all errors, grammatical and continuity, are my own.This fic is dedicated to Trista_zevkia.I hope it's not too awful.It is also inspired by all the amazing authors who are Brave enough to post here.So although I am nervous as all Heck, here is smut.No plot, no story or background, just plain ol porn. If you don't like boyxboy, then please don't read ok?Constructive criticism is welcome but I don't think my fragile ego could take any harshness yet.I'm sure I'll laugh about this one day ;)





	

Bruce collapsed on his bed. Another night where he had given his all to Gotham.  
He'd barely made it through the shower, leaning against the cool tile as the hot water pounded his tired muscles.  
After a perfunctory dry, he had simply collapsed onto his bed, not pulling the covers over himself, or bothering with pyjamas or boxers to cover his nakedness.

It felt like he had barely touched his head to his pillow, when he heard the breath of his name in his ear. Hands slid up his body, at first it was a feather light touch up his spine. He was sure he would have shivered if he had the energy.  
The touches seemed to relax him more and with an almost silent groan into his pillow, he felt himself stretch into the dreamlike state. Bruce knew no one shared his bed, so it could only be exhaustion encouraging him to stretch from his toes to his fingertips.  
He moaned again into his pillow as imaginary fingers pressed albeit gently into knotted muscles, moving up and down his body. Mmmmm so good. He almost wished it was real. He bent his knee, rolling onto his side slightly, moving towards a delicious warmth that radiated such good feelings. 

He could have sworn that hands caressed the back of his thigh, behind his knee, back up the side of his rib cage. He twisted more as the imaginary hands rose higher up his body to brush oh so close to his nipple. He stretched his arms under the pillow, allowing his body to arch, almost hearing an intake of breath and then a moan as light as air exhale onto his ear. The hand brushed down his abs, caressing each muscle as it travelled lower down his body. Blood started to pool in his groin, making him rub luxuriously against the sheets.  
A second hand slid between him and the bed, up onto his chest, caressing his collarbone, making his eyes pop open and his body stiffen.

He was not alone, in his home, in his bed. He felt a tongue gently caress his ear but when he tried to turn his head, the hand from his collarbone grasped his jaw holding him in place. He felt lips suckling behind his ear, the hand caressing his throat.

The hand that had travelled down his abs now curled inside his thigh sliding towards his heavy balls. The hand from his jaw slid down to grip his throat in a loose but unbreakable hold. Bruce's heart sped up, his pulse started pounding. This was no tired lapse, this was real - someone was here, in his private, safe space.

His hands instinctively grasped at the hand on his throat, pressing into pressure points that should numb the fingers stretching across his neck. Instead, the hand tightened and moved his head until his throat was fully stretched and exposed.  
The other hand had slid along the soft skin of his inner thigh, knuckles grazing his balls making them twitch.  
He found his other leg trapped before a hardness pressed into his buttocks, not quite entering into the cleft of his ass. Suddenly the hand moved from his thigh to wrap around the base of his cock. This time Bruce did shudder, a full body shudder as his cock filled to hardness. 

Was he dreaming all this? His tired mind tried to grasp onto details. The man behind him seemed as big as him, stretching the length of his body. The hands on him were large and strong. A nip on his ear brought his thoughts to a halt and the hand on his cock started a torturous slow movement towards its tip. The body behind him seemed to press closer, a slow grind of the hips digging its own cock between the cheeks of his ass. It was not a small cock either. Bruce tried to swallow a small whimper but the hand on his throat felt the hard swallow. This only encouraged his nighttime visitor. The hand moving on his cock stilled and he felt the thumb swirling beads of precome at the slit of his head.

God he was hard. Harder than he had ever been.  
"I'm dreaming" he mumbled. The Manor's security would never allow an undetected intruder.  
He released his hands from the one around his neck, and again stretched fully.  
If he was dreaming, he would enjoy it.

The grip on his cock changed, slowly sliding back and forth.  
Every time that hand pulled back towards his body, the fingers spread to put firm pressure on his balls, and encouraged the slow slide between his cheeks.  
As the delicious pressure around his cock increased, he could feel his body rocking into the grip. He was tired and lucid dreaming, there was no need for restraint as he moaned with the tightening of his balls. The hand at his throat tightened slightly, the arm pulling him back into the chest at his back, the thick cock at his ass pushing faster. Bruce almost wished it would slip inside him. His fingers gripped the pillows and sheets around him and he pushed his ass back towards that heat that maddeningly slid between his glutes, then forward into the warm fingers around his dick.  
The hand on his cock added a twist to its rhythm and Bruce's body arched and tensed, before he unexpectedly orgasmed, hard. It left him breathless, not quite struggling to breathe past the hand around his throat. Teeth grazed his shoulder and the slide of the heavy cock didn't change. He pushed against it harder, wanting more.  
The hand on his cock slid down to his balls and began sliding with that fat cock around his hole. It twitched in anticipation. Using his own seed as lube, the body shifted enough to gently circle his hole. Another moan from Bruce was enough to send a large finger delving inside. This time the groan came from deep inside Bruce. Normally he would need a few minutes before his refractory rate allowed for more pleasure but his cock was throbbing with increased blood flow already, torturously sensitive. The mouth on his shoulder kept moving, never letting up.  
The only part of his imaginary visitor that wasn't moving was the hand at his throat, holding his head back while Bruce panted.  
A second finger joined the first, stretching his hole in a delicious burn. His own body fluids weren't as good as lube but the gust of air that left his lips was nothing but encouraging. The hard cock pressed into his butt cheek moved in the same rhythm as the fingers inside him. It didn't take long for a third finger to join the stretching of his hole, brushing his prostrate and sending waves of pleasure throughout his entire body.  
Bruce's pants had turned into muffled words "yes" "more" "faster" until he could bear it no longer "your cock, now" he growled causing a shudder he felt in the body behind him. 

If anything woke him from this dream now, there would be hell to pay!

He felt the body shift, the fingers left his spasming hole, and he felt the blunt tip of that delicious fat cock line up with barely any restraint. Bruce pushed himself onto it until the head breached his ring of muscle, causing a groan at his neck and a sharp bite to the skin just below his ear. The hand at his throat made his pulse hammer loudly in his ear. Part of his mind wished his imagination had included proper lube now as the slow thrust into his body burned and threatened to split him in two. The heated body behind him moved to cover him as he pushed further into Bruce, pushing his knee to his chest. Bruce loved it. A loud "yes" was all he managed as the length kept invading him more with each stroke. Bruce wanted to press back onto it but was pinned against the body.  
Teeth chewed at his neck and shoulder, the firm hand under his knee trapped his leg and as the body finally, finally, buried itself balls deep into Bruce, he let out the most ragged rasping moan. Fingers clenched deep into the skin at his throat, stretching his neck painfully but Bruce didn't care.  
All he could feel was the hard length filling him to beyond breaking, moving slowly at first with shallow thrusts. Bruce whimpered against the fingers at his neck.  
With one leg curled up on his chest, the body behind him nudged his other leg to spread his hips wide. The thrusts became longer, deeper, faster. Bruce began twitching whatever parts of his body he could when the hand holding his knee to his chest slid the entire arm to grab both of Bruce's wrists in an unbreakable grip. His knee now rested in the crook of the elbow of his nighttime paramour. Bruce was trapped. His muscles flexed and strained, sweat beaded over his exposed body and he felt lips nipping, sucking, biting, marking his shoulder and neck. All the while that cock moved in him, inexorably drawing him towards pleasure. He could feel it pressing against his prostrate, god it was so big. Bruce's breaths were shallow pants now, moans unbidden from both bodies as the fullness in his ass kept moving. Gone were the shallow thrusts, replaced by a long, deep, mind blowing pistoning. Yet the speed still increased. Bruce wanted to thrash in pleasure. It was the best wet dream he had ever had. He didn't restrain the noises he was making. The body behind him curled around him perfectly. It was unrelenting. The pace didn't slow and Bruce felt his orgasm pooling deep inside.

Without warning, his whole body lifted from the bed. The body behind him rolling onto its back but not changing anything about the grip on Bruce's body.  
It was as if he weighed nothing. His wrists gripped, his knee in the crook of the elbow that held them securely. The arm around his chest so that the hand on his throat pulled him tightly. That long fat cock still moving in his ass as he was bounced on the hard body beneath him.  
The mouth moved to the other side of his neck, and it was all Bruce could do not to scream. The dick inside him was not pausing. Just when he had thought it was impossible for it to move faster or harder, it did.  
The body curled as if to sit with Bruce in his lap.  
He was moved like a doll, pounded onto the dick in his ass, lifted and dropped. Bruce struggled to breathe, those fingers bruising his neck, but he was so close.  
The heat inside his body was killing him in the best way.  
"Bruce" he heard his name in the air, and tried to inhale only to find he couldn't. The fingers on his throat clenched and the dick inside him vibrated, he felt his ass clench as he was filled with scorching fluids.  
It sent him careening into the abyss. His vision blacked out completely, he would have screamed if he could, he felt his dick pulse as he came. The fingers at his throat loosened but only a little. Bruce sucked the trickle of air into his lungs and the vibrations against his prostrate made him come again, almost dry, as the multiple orgasm rocked his body, his world.  
He cracked an eyelid to see blinding red shoot towards the ceiling and felt the second orgasm of his bedmate fill him beyond capacity.  
He was barely aware of it leaking out of his spasming body.  
The hand released his throat and Bruce sucked in a huge lungful of air. When he exhaled, it was a sigh. He was surprised to feel his face wet with tears.  
He was rolled back down to the bed, his body released from its locked up position and hands stroked gently, stretching his aching limbs into a more comfortable position.  
Still his mind didn't allow him to see this amazing fantasy lover.  
At this point Bruce didn't care, and he passed out with a smile on his exhausted features.

Bruce couldn't remember the last time he slept so deeply.  
He was only woken when Alfred pulled the curtains but didn't open his eyes until he heard the butlers sharp intake of breath.  
"Rough night on patrol Master Bruce?" Alfred asked, sitting himself on the edge of the bed. The older man looked deeply into his eyes, taking in the bruised man before him.  
"Alfred" he croaked. His throat was sore, his mouth parched.  
He reached for the glass of water he customarily kept next to the bed, only to see a single daisy sitting in it.  
"Alfred, you shouldn't have" he croaked cheekily before turning towards the juice on the breakfast tray Alfred had brought up.  
Alfred lifted one eyebrow at his young master "I didn't" before standing from the bed.  
Bruce looked puzzled and started to pay attention to his surroundings a little more. His body was sore, but not in ways that were usual after a long night of patrolling Gotham's streets.  
As he eased himself into sitting position, he noticed bruises around his wrists.  
He looked towards Alfred unsteadily.  
His rumpled sheets displayed clear signs of more than just sleeping, although it appeared he himself had been cleaned up while passed out.  
Alfred was still watching him closely.  
"Master Bruce, those new bruises will require some creative explanations " he said cryptically. At Bruce's blank look, Alfred indicated to his own throat above his starched collar.  
Bruce immediately headed to the ensuite, ignoring his nakedness and further gasps from Alfred behind him.  
He turned towards the mirror after getting the lights, only to discover what had shocked his father figure.  
His body, usually littered with bruises, had a clear handprint around his throat. Both sides of his neck were ablaze with hickeys like some teenager. He could see the rings around his wrists and he could feel the pull of certain other muscles in his body.

He closed his eyes and clenched his fists, taking several deep breaths before snatching a robe from a nearby hook and stalking back into the bedroom.  
As he wrapped it around himself, his mind began to race, trying to put pieces of the puzzle together.  
Alfred was still standing by his bed, looking worried. 

"We will need the security feeds from all the cameras after 4.18am Alfred, he left at some point. I'll also need a log of any and all intrusions through the windows and doors for the entire evening" he ran his hand through his hair and glanced towards the ceiling.  
His eyes squinted at an anomaly above his bed. He leapt on top of the nearby bureau and reached his fingers to touch 2 small, perfect circles, that drilled through plasterboard and wood. Holes in the ceiling? He wondered how deep they would be before he returned to the floor.  
Alfred watched with interest, having already called for the information requested on Bruce's tablet.  
"Ah" was all he said when he glanced at the rotating screenshots. Bruce looked over and took the tablet from Alfred's hands in time to see a red and blue blur on the recordings of his security feed.  
"Something you wish to share Master Bruce" Alfred used all his training not to let his lips twitch, but Bruce could see the sparkle in his eye.  
"Yes Alfred, I will be travelling to Metropolis today"  
This time Alfred did smile. Bruce noted the man beamed with unrestrained glee.  
He looked Alfred in the eye before growling "and I'll be taking the kryptonite"  
Alfred only tsked and glanced at the lone daisy in the glass of water.  
Bruce ignored him and headed for the shower.  
There was a certain Man of Steel he was going to offer some payback to.  
His lips 'may' have twitched at certain thoughts that flew through his mind, but there was no need for Alfred to know that.


End file.
